


Spideypool Fic-or-Treat 2019

by Jennicide (yenyen)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fic or Treat 2019, Gen, Sex Toys, Toilet Papering, actually just enchanted, fake body parts, juvenile-esque hijinks, real body parts, that are haunted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 12:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21253655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yenyen/pseuds/Jennicide
Summary: A three shot collection of challenge prompts from the Isn't It Bromantic Server Fic-or-Treat 2019. Prompts included: TP-ing a house, Deadpool style; it’s hard to scare someone with Spidey-senses, but Wade’s gonna try; and haunted sex toys. Individual summaries inside.





	1. DP TP Terror (Treat)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade takes his toilet papering very seriously and now he has the perfect partner in, uhm, outdoor bathroom paraphernalia related hijinks with which to commit the ultimate Halloween _not_ crime!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the Fic-or-Treat prompt 041. TP-ing a house, Deadpool style.

* * *

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’VE NEVER TP’D SOMETHING BEFORE!?”

Deadpool looks entirely more scandalized than he has any right to be. In fact, Peter’s eyes can barely stay in his head with how hard he’s rolling them. Of course Peter Parker has never TP’d a house, he’s Spider-Man for crying out loud! He upholds justice and all that other good-doing an honorable person is held accountable for. Besides, he was born and raised in Queens. Who even has a front lawn with a tree in it to TP anyway? This is New York. They’re in a freaking alleyway arguing over something completely irrelevant.

“I don’t know why you’re so stunned by this,” he waves a hand over his red and blue spandex. “You do know that I’m a super_hero_, right? Big emphasis on hero, by the way…”

“Oh yeah, absolutely!” Deadpool fans his hands out in a wide arc. “Totes heard the italics on that, no need to spell it out.”

The over the top gesticulations are nothing new; Spider-Man is not impressed.

“But you do realize what this means, right Spidey?”

Peter slowly begins to shake his head from side to side before he realizes what he’s doing. Only regret will follow this action because he’s not expecting any sort of intelligent response from the other man. Deadpool’s told him plenty of times before, when they’ve had run-ins during Peter’s patrols, that his brain is basically swiss-cheese from the specific mutation that makes him immortal, so why should what he says next be any different than all the other nonsense he spouts on a regular basis just because tomorrow is Halloween?

“WE GON TP THIS MOTHERFLUFFER UP LIKE WE’RE JONAH HILL AND MICHAEL CERA TRYNA LIVE OUT OUR TEENAGE DREAMS IN SKIN TIGHT JEANS - or whatever the hell else the lyrics were!”

Peter doesn’t know what he’s talking about or even if he should tell Deadpool that he was still sorta a teenager himself up until a few months ago before his last birthday. It’s probably not the best idea to let your sometimes frenemy know your approximate age. Spider-Man’s identity could be compromised, so he decides against it.

“Yeah, no, I don’t think-”

“Leave everything to me!” Deadpool cuts him off with a booming shout as a flurry of red and black rushes right past Peter out of the alley they’ve been chatting in for the past five minutes. “You just stay right there, spider-face, and let me get the goods!”

* * *

Peter doesn’t know how this happened. He doesn’t even know why he’s agreed to get into a taxi cab with a nutcase like Deadpool so they can head up north towards the more ritzy area of upstate New York where people live in actual homes with big front yards. In fact, the last thirty minutes or so are completely beyond him and everything is a blank up until this moment. Sometimes the universe is weird.

His whole _you can’t TP buildings downtown_ argument might have led to this, he’s not sure, but what Peter’s still very confused about is how Deadpool managed to talk him into tagging along to TP anything in the first place.

Peter had wholeheartedly intended to swing away before Deadpool came back, but the man is quick and resourceful and Peter is tired… maybe even a little bored. The night before Halloween is usually pretty quiet in New York City as the bigger crimes tend to occur on the actual night of all Hallows Eve. Peter is still a bit peeved about how the Green Goblin thought it would be hilarious to fool around last year and really live up to his whole pumpkin-themed gimmick. Spoiler alert, it wasn’t actually funny.

It’s now, however, technically October 31st since it’s well past midnight and here he is with a couple rolls of fancy two-ply - yes, he immediately noticed it was nicer than stuff he routinely wipes his butt with on the regular and yes, he is INDEED mildly offended that the mercenary shelled out extra cash for the good pillowy stuff just so they can waste it - in his arms as Deadpool continues to coach him on how they’re going to utterly destroy some upper crust’s landscaping.

It’s even crazier still that Wade, he knows his name now because the bigger man leaned over and giggle whispered it into Peter’s ear like they’re real delinquent friends conspiring to get up to no good with paper-based toiletries, is taking this whole situation way more seriously than he should. The man’s been prattling on for a majority of their ride about the correct technique necessary for throwing and catching, is _still_ in the process of educating Peter on how to properly rooster tail the first ten to twelve squares so that each roll will catch on the tree branches for optimal mischief and mayhem like he’s teaching an intro to disorderly conduct class.

“Actually, ya know, the more I think about it... you’re probably the best partner in crime for this because-”

Peter throws a hand up. “Don’t-”

“Awww, you don’t like the C-word,” Wade pouts. “Fine, partner in uhhhh, outdoor bathroom paper paraphernalia related hijinks!”

“Better,” Peter grumps and slumps down further in the backseat. Maybe he’s just spent too much time being a stick in the mud. Peter’s never even been tardy to a class before, let alone thought of doing something the slightest bit… deviant. But the more Wade talks about the act of toilet papering like it’s some teenage rite of passage that everyone should have completed at least once in their life, the less it seems like a law-breaking punishable offense… one he might be more apt to put a stop to if he was, say, your friendly suburbanite Spider-Man. He huffs a small laugh at that. Would anyone even take him seriously there? Afterall, what kind of superhero work needs to be done out there other than helping folks with their groceries and maybe mowing lawns?

“Hey,” he interrupts Deadpool’s unheard monologuing about the necessity for high quality rolls and not that dollar store low grade sandpaper substitute.

“Mmmyes?”

“_If_ we do this,” he phrases it like a hypothetical, “no one gets hurt, right?”

Of course Peter knows this is not an entirely victimless prank; someone’s going to have to clean up the mess they make. It just seems less severe somehow since there’s no real harm coming to neither persons nor their property. Wade pinky promised that toilet paper was recyclable and that there would be no other types of low level vandalism, such as egging or forking, happening tonight. If Peter does this, he is definitely going to make sure Deadpool is held accountable for that.

Wade gasps and nods enthusiastically, his head bobbling comically on his shoulders. “Oh yeah, most def! Cross my heart and hope to die!” He mimes the gestures and then leans over to rib his shoulder into Peter’s. “Get it... ‘CUZ I CAN’T DIE, HAH! I knew you had it in you, Spides! This is gonna be great.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter shrugs him off and picks up a roll to turn over in his hand. “So why exactly am I the perfect partner again?”

* * *

It was easier than Peter thought it would be. The two of them are whooping and hollering as they make their way back towards the idling taxi parked discreetly up the street from their not-quite-a-crime-scene… scene. The driver was paid a fat wad of twenties to standby and _zip his lip_ about what was about to transpire, and, true to his word, the man says little as Wade and Peter slam their car doors and tell him to punch it out of the upscale residence Wade had instructed the cabby to drive them to.

“TELL ME THAT WAS NOT THE MOST FUN YOU’VE EVER HAD!” Wade cackles maniacally from his side of the cab.

“Not _the most_ fun, but pretty fun,” Peter confesses and laughs with him, reaching up to lift his mask over his nose so he can air out a little bit.

The adrenaline finally starts to subside as Peter clicks his seat belt into place. His spidey-sense hadn’t gone off at all even though he’d clearly seen the telltale signs of a high grade security system sprinkled all along the property. It’s a little weird if he’s honest, but that might just be part of the rush he eventually reasons. Spider-Man’s precognition was one of the main reasons Wade had deemed him the perfect accomplice, after all.

_ We’ll never get caught ‘cuz your bad spooder tinglies can warn us beforehand!_

“Still a good time. 10/10, would recommend!” Wade reflects, not bothering to buckle up because who cares, he’s Deadpool. He leans back in his seat and tosses an arm behind the middle headrest. “Maaaaaaaan… Stark is gonna be so pissed when he sees what we did tomorrow morning.”

Waitaminute.

“What?” Peter whips his head around to stare down the man he has just apparently aided and abetted.

“Yeah, haha, Iron Maiden is gonna shit gold bricks when he sees we TP’d his summer home, but the best part is that he’ll never know we did it because I disabled his fancy-pants AI security system! You’re the best, Webs. Let’s totally do this again sometime!”

“**WHAT.**”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Devral and Voidbean for beta reading and cheering me on!


	2. Spoopy Sense (Treat)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoopy month only lasts 31 days and dammit Wade is gonna figure out a way to prank/scare Spidey if it’s the last thing he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Fic-or-Treat prompt 058. It’s hard to scare someone with Spidey-senses, but Wade’s gonna try.

* * *

It starts off simply enough. Wade plops a fake rat inside Spider-Man’s takeout bag. Problem is, the dude doesn’t even react. Spidey reaches inside to retrieve a taco, brushes his gloved fingers along something… odd, but when he picks the bag up to more closely examine the contents… no reaction.

Nada, nothing.

Wade was at least hoping for a cute little chuckle or even the barest hint of a smile from his super best friend. The total lack of response just irks Wade in the worst way because it’s only the first day of spoopy month and they are already off to a bad start!

The second attempt comes a few days later. If chunky foam rats aren’t Spidey’s cup of tea, Wade is willing to be more creative. He picks up a fake severed hand prop from a local Halloween store, gets the stump end dressed up all nice and gory like it’s actually real and been lopped off, ‘cuz boy, let ol’ Deadpool tell you, he knows a thing or two about missing body parts so this one looks extra good. When they meet again, Wade offers his _hand_ for a shake that Webs never takes.

Maybe it’s the fact that he wasn’t able to get the glove on quite right or maybe it’s because he’s wearing a hoodie over his usual red and black leathers that is the most off-putting. Whatever the reason is, it’s got Wade tossing the plastic hand right into the trash in a fit of rage.

NO MORE KIDDIE STUFF! Next time he’ll just lop his own hand off and see what happens.

Big surprise: it’s, also, a huge flop and Wade feels all sorts of stupid while he waits three hours for his hand to grow back. It’s like… _he knows_.

His next best attempts come when they’re out on patrol preparing to munch on some more takeout that Wade has conveniently decided they will eat atop a building under some very bright streetlights. This is highly unusual, but Spider-Man is either very ignorant about Wade’s feelings regarding his own looks or he’s never really paid much attention to where Wade usually insists they eat.

Wade waits for the perfect moment, when Webs has his mask scrunched up over his nose and his mouth open with teeth ready to sink into his burrito, before he reaches up to casually yank his whole mask off.

The rub is that there’s another mask underneath his first one, but Spider-Man wouldn’t know the difference between an icky grotesque mask and Wade’s normal face because he’s only ever seen the fucked-up bottom half of Wade’s chin in the dark. The movement catches Spider-Man’s masked eye and he pauses ever so briefly before bringing the burrito back up to his mouth for a second, bigger bite.

Wade can feel what little is left of his eyelid twitch.

Oh, that is _it_.

Normally he’d be opposed to this brand of terrorizing, PTSD-inducing horror, but a quarter of the month has already passed and he’s running out of options. Before he can think better of it, he reaches back up to tug his fake, gross mask off his real, gross head. Wade makes sure to smile crookedly and widen his eyes all crazy-like for dramatic effect. He’s also secretly hoping that today is a bad skin day but is sorely disappointed to discover that none of that matters when Spider-Man blatantly ignores his offensive ugliness to open his mouth and ask if Wade can hand him another napkin.

Wade avoids hanging out with him for a little while after that. The man is seemingly immune to body horror. It probably has less to do with the gory nature of that type of scare and more with the fact that Spider-Man’s definitely seen Wade in all of the worst ways a person can be un-alived since they started paling around a year or so ago. Maybe jump scares are the way to go. They’re cheap, but Wade will take whatever he can at this point.

Reconnaissance is easy enough; Wade was special forces in another life. It only takes two days for him to figure out where Spider-Man weaves his web, and it’s a little dump just outside of Queens. He catches his spindly hero sneaking in and out and sees that he usually favors a predictable path whilst returning home after an evening of crime-fighting.

A couple more days pass, and Wade thinks he’s finally going to get the best of Spidey this time. He waits low near the edge of a building, rocking his inverted black leathers from that weird stint where he was an X-Men… X-Man… he’s just one guy, okay, so man it is. His watch reads half past three, and Spider-Man should be swinging his cute little butt by aaaaaaany moment now… but then he doesn’t. What happens next is infinitely more anti-climactic.

Wade can see him, a few buildings over in the distance, shooting web and tucking his legs up as he makes his way towards the run-down corner studio apartment that Wade is beginning to associate with him.

No opportunity for that scare tonight. He tells himself it’s just a spot of bad luck. Wade’s got stir-fry for brains, but he’s pretty good with numbers and the stats he math’d earlier said that Spidey had the highest odds of taking the route directly above Wade’s hiding spot. He’ll try again tomorrow and maybe then Spider-Man will finally be within striking distance.

But then it happens again.

And it happens again.

When Wade repositions himself on the roof of the building Spidey has been swinging back over for days now, he’s dismayed to see his webbed friend thwip over the other building he’d been camped out on three days in a row. IT’S MADDENING! HALF THE MONTH IS GONE NOW!!!

It’s time to go hard by going home.

He decides to invite Spider-Man over for a friendly dudes-only game night, pizza included at no extra charge. Wade gives him the address to one of his nicer safe houses and gets to work on his next plan for operation Spook Spidey.

In retrospect, he should have expected that his seemingly brilliant plan was bound to fail. Just because Webs has used the window EVERY TIME he’s ever visited one of Wade’s homes before certainly doesn’t mean he’ll magically start using the front door like a normal human being now, right? So when Spider-Man lets himself into Wade’s respectably sized two bedroom apartment and asks why Wade’s scrunched up in a corner of the ceiling closest to the window with his arm and leg muscles quaking, all Wade can do is laugh it off as a feeble attempt to emulate his guest before he slips off the wall and lands face first on the floor.

When Spider-Man helps himself to a drink from the fridge and asks why Wade also has [a creepy looking picture of Ryan Reynolds’ head in a liquid filled jar](https://www.handimania.com/uploads/head-in-a-jar-prank-fb2.jpg), it’s his turn to not react.

* * *

Tomorrow is Halloween and Wade has run out of every conceivable idea to scare the other super. He didn’t want it to come to this, but if he can’t get Spidey outdoors or even when the other man comes to see him of his own free will, he’s just going to have to resort to breaking and entering into Spidey’s domain. After all, the guy’s gotta come home and change his underwear at some point… at least, Wade hopes the other man changes his underwear with some regularity. The latter option is just nasty to think about, so Wade doesn’t as he finagles himself under Spidey’s laughably puny twin size bed.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait too long. Spider-Man likes to end his late night patrols between 2 and 3 AM with some regularity, so Wade’s timing is more or less spot on.

He hears the telltale creaking of an unlatched windowsill sliding open; it’s the very same one he helped himself through not less than an hour before. There’s an awkward pause as Spider-Man continues to linger outside of his building as though some unseen force gives him a reason to hesitate.

Wade stops breathing in anticipation as Spidey finally sets one spandexed foot on the floor. Oh, he’s so close and would it be better or worse if Wade shot a hand out and grabbed the guy’s foot now while he’s alert or after he’s asleep? Wade can barely contain his excitement when a second red foot joins the other on the hardwood floor.

What he doesn’t count on, is Spides calmly walking up to the edge of the bed that Wade has just barely managed to wedge himself under and snatch the whole thing up off the floor, metal frame and all.

“Deadpool,” the word rolls out with some restraint from behind Spider-Man’s expressionless mask. “What are you doing here?”

“Uhm, boo,” Wade squeaks out as Spider-Man one-handedly supports his entire fucking bed because Jesus fuck why does Wade keep forgetting that his spider-crush has super strength to match his super ass!?

“[Why can’t you just be normal?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2lDCDMpmbs)” Spider-Man sighs out defeatedly.

“Is this the part where I scream?”

Spidey solemnly shakes his head from side to side.

“Oh, okay.” Wade resigns himself to serious talk time. “Well then, it’s ‘cuz I’ve been trying to scare you - it’s Spoopy Month!” he tacks on, like that’s explanation enough. “For the record, you’re really hard to scare, all right! Except I’m guessing I didn’t realize I probably crossed a line somewhere between housebreaking and being tenacious, so you’re probably hella mad at me right now, huh?”

Spider-Man nods at him in the same eerie slow motion he’d just done moments before.

“Whelp,” Wade pops the P at the end, “guess I’ll just, ya know, crawl on outta here and uhm, put myself out of my misery so’s I can forget where you live and stuff.”

“Wait,” Spider-Man’s gloved hand comes up to pinch at where the bridge of his nose must be under his mask. “Don’t… don’t do that.”

Wade stills and blinks owlishly back up at his hero. “Why not?”

“Because,” he can hear Spider-Man breathe out harshly through gritted teeth, “that’s honestly one of the scarier things about you, how you can just disregard your own health and safety like it’s some kind of joke. Don’t think I didn’t know about your _real_ severed hand...”

That last bit gives Wade an epiphany: _he knew after all!_

“You don’t have to speak in third person. I’m, literally, right here.”

“But I can’t die?” Wade deflects, still not quite getting where Spidey is going with this conversation but not bothering to get up from his awkward fetal position on the floor.

“I know that!” Spider-Man’s hand releases his face and places itself assertedly on his hip like he’s scolding a small child. “But that doesn’t mean you hurting yourself is any less disconcerting.”

“You don’t act scared when you see me in various states of dead’ed,” Wade tries again from a different angle.

“Well, that’s probably because I’m utterly terrified and don’t want to freak you out with my own hang-ups around death and dying,” is the logically sound and reasonable reply Spider-Man gives him in return. And it's probably true as Spidey tends to get super serious and less quibby the more mortally wounded Deadpool happens to be.

“Huh. So… what I’m hearing is, if I want to _actually_ spook you, I just need to find new and creative ways to get dead in front of you more often?”

“Don’t you dare, it’s freaking me out just thinking about it,” Webs hisses and drops the bed back down on top of him. “Now get out!”

Wade’s still gonna count this as a win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Mokuyounbi for beta-reading and cheering me on.


	3. Go @#$% Yourself (Trick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the ex-wifey tells him to go fuck himself, Wade’s realizes that perhaps no one’s ever told her the meaning shouldn’t be literal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the Fic-or-Treat prompt 101. Haunted sex toys.

* * *

“Hellfire, will ya just sign the line so that we can be done with this already?”

Shiklah snarled and shattered the pen Wade shoved into her hand moments before. “How dare you call me that!”

“Shiklah, succubae, I know you want to see me even less than I want to see you... but look, upstairs has got these rules, and you can’t really marry someone else while you’re still technically married to me, so-”

Purple energy swirled angrily around her as her eyes flashed yellow in warning. “I am the ruler of the Underworld, **_I_ MAKE THE RULES!**”

Wade held his hands up in a placating gesture, “Sure ya are, monster-face. I’m not even questioning your authority on that. I just thought we should finally sit down and end this more hate than love relationship with a quick, clean cut ala divorce papers. You’ve already established that we’re no longer wed down here, still think ya coulda done better than million years old Dracula but whatever. I kinda just wanna prove on my taxes that I’m no longer the big M, m’kay?”

“I cannot believe how low you’ve fallen,” she hissed. “You pay taxes? Saving the lives of pitiful humans wasn’t good enough for you? Now you must be an upstanding citizen as well?” His ex-wife snorted and conjured up a rather intricate looking fountain pen. Snatching up the divorce papers, her fingers crunched up the pristine stapled document as she scrawled her signature on the last empty line.

“There,” she threw the papers back at him and dissolved the pen in her hand. “We are now officially through or whatever silly phrase it is you use to state the end of a bad relationship.”

“[That’ll do, pig, that’ll do.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjQtzV9IZ0Q)”

Shiklah crossed her arms over her buxom chest and pointed one finely manicured fingernail towards the exit portal.

“Oh, and before I leave…” Wade drawled out, a lopsided smile forming underneath his Deadpool mask. “Where did you put my [BAMF](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/99/e0/67/99e067b41883b18b5554de816b2f39e7.jpg)? I kinda want it back or at least half of it, as per our pre-nup-”

“**_OUT!!!_**" Shiklah roared, her humanoid form dissolving in a violent flash of violet flames.

“No need to get so heated about it,” Wade punned, making a hasty retreat towards the exit with his monstrous looking ex hot on his heels. Heh.

“GO FUCK YOURSELF, WADE!”

“Already do, sweetheart!” And then he was outta there.

* * *

Once he was topside, Wade dropped off their completed paperwork at a local county clerk's office and treated himself to some nice celebratory single tacos. [Definitely touching himself tonight](https://media1.giphy.com/media/hgysCjyWoOPXW/source.gif); he deserved it.

When Wade got home, the last thing he was expecting was to get jumped by his vast collection of adult goods as soon as he entered the bedroom. Today had already been kinda rough; he was looking forward to a nice refreshing shower with some sexy slow jams to jerk off to like _Earned It_ by the Weeknd, not his battery powered vibes and large assortment of dildos chasing him around the room like _Urgent_ by Foreigner. He just wasn’t in that kinda mood right now.

Calling his favorite spandexed sexyfriend, Spider-Man, was his first gut reaction. His best bud picked up by the third ring sounding slightly irritated on the other end of the phone. “What do you want, Pool?”

“Oh hey cutie-patootie, love you too, uhm, I’m in a bit of a pickle at the mo’... you free to help a brother out?”

There was a long drawn out sigh and maybe something like, _I knew I should have never given you this number_, and then Spidey was agreeing to swing by in the next fifteen or so minutes. Wade hung up and made sure to lock the bedroom before wandering over to the sliding door of his verandah to await his back-up’s arrival.

Since becoming a good guy - okay, a _better_ guy - Wade had stopped seeing the need for so many safehouses and was now just living in his largest, nicest condominium. Ergo, it actually mattered that he stopped his mutinous sex toys from trying to actively assualt him on their own otherwise he’d have nowhere else to go. He highly doubted that Spider-Man would let him crash at his web for the night while he waited out Shiklah’s _curse_. She could only imbue physical objects with her soulfire for so long before they eventually petered out, but who knew how long that would be.

Spider-Man arrived exactly fifteen minutes later, and Wade slid the door open before stepping aside so that his friend could let himself in.

“What’s so dire that you need my help at your place? If your toilet’s clogged, I regret to inform that you misdialed for a plumber.”

“Haha, nah,” Wade leaned over and slapped his gloved hand down on Spider-Man’s shoulder. “This is MUCH more embarrassing than that…”

Loud rhythmic thumping could be heard coming from Wade’s bedroom and that’s exactly the direction he steered his companion towards.

“Ya hear that?”

Webs nodded.

“[Ya wanna know what’s behind that door?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5c_TyajItw)”

Webs shook his head.

“Ya don’t wanna know what’s behind that door… but we’re gonna open it anyway.”

As soon as the handle was turned and the lock popped, a flurry of various adult articles burst out of the bedroom. Wade would have fallen to the ground laughing at the sight of Spidey getting thwacked in the head with a colorful rubbery dildo if his life-sized blow-up doll dressed in a cheap Spider-Man costume didn’t knock him over first.

“WHAT EVEN- WHY ARE-!?” Spidey moved to kick the bedroom door shut while he continued to wrestle with one of Wade’s favorite toys, the pastel rainbow unicorn horn that had started off his rather expansive mythical creature collection because it was not just a phase, Mom. At least he could rest assured that explaining The Kraken later would be way less humiliating than disclosing why he kept a rather, uhm, suspiciously similar looking blow-up doll version of his spidery best friend.

Wade reached back into his utility belt and flicked out a small switchblade to stab at the side of his inflatable attacker. The vinyl squeaked pitifully as the knife sawed through its welded seam. Once it ran out of air, Wade could practically feel Spider-Man’s eyes judging him from the other side of the room for the tacky looking replica of his own costume on the floppy deflating sex doll.

“[That sounds hideous](https://youtu.be/foHqdleEuvc?t=21),” he sassed, shooting another web up at the ceiling where he’d managed to subdue his opponent.

“Well, it’s a blow-up doll, so…” Wade watched him finish up and prayed that the webbing compound wasn’t corrosive to silicone based items. He knew the substance wasn’t hazardous to humans so there was the innate chance that it wouldn’t do any damage to his sexy fun-time stuff. Truthfully, he’d be kinda sad if he had to replace a single one of his best toys. Sure, they were mass produced and another dildo from the same line might _feel_ similar, but Wade was pretty damn sentimental and had grown very attached to items like Sparkles. They’d had plenty of good times together and, hopefully, would have many more in the future too.

“So, Lucy,” Spidey cut his reminiscing short. “I _really_ think you have some explaining to do…”

“Uhhhh,” Wade not so intelligently replied. “I can totally explain the costume-”

“Not that,” Spider-Man held a hand up in the universal cease and desist gesture. His head tilted back towards the bedroom door before he turned to look expectantly at Wade. “You wanna tell me why your rather perverse treasure trove is on a rampage in your own apartment?”

“Oooooooh, _that_!” Wade bunched up the cloth covered vinyl mass and threw it over his couch. He’d deal with that one later. “Well, I might have pissed off the now ex-wifey earlier today and this is her idea of poetic vengeance.”

“Huh,” Spider-Man let out a small puff of air that sounded almost vaguely like a laugh. Maybe? “Why am I am not surprised that the weirdest crap always happens to you? Remind me to never get on her bad side.”

Okay, so probably not. Webs stood up and placed both hands on his hips before turning back towards the door. “So, you got any ideas how we’re gonna handle this, Pool?”

“Honestly?” Wade answered as he heaved himself up off the floor. “The fact that you’re not spazzing out after just seeing me get attacked by a very sexy inflatable version of you is still tripping me out [_is this the real life_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVQBHpm1H0w) style.”

“Oh,” Spider-Man’s mask eyes scrunched up weirdly on his forehead. “We’re definitely having a talk about that, just not right this second.”

“Gotcha,” Wade brought a hand up to his chest in a tiny okay sign. “I guess, just… don’t hurt them?”

“Them?”

“Yeeeaaah… I mean, this collection didn’t buy itself overnight; though, I am a bit of an impulse shopper. Maybe like, web ‘em up? I really don’t want to have to replace every single thing just because it’s temporarily haunted or whatever.”

“Enchanted,” Peter corrected. “Only ghosts can haunt things, so unless you found a way to way to turn your wife-”

“Ex-wife,” Wade amended.

“Ex-wife, into a spirit, I’m pretty sure she just used some form of occult magic to enchant your… things.”

Wade nodded. This was exactly why he’d called Spidey in the first place. The guy was super smart; he could figure anything out without having to be told the whole story.

“All right,” Spider-Man stood up and rolled his neck and his shoulders. “You ready for round 2?”

“Oh hell yeah, I could go all night!”

That earned him another glare.

“Just open the door,” Spidey deadpanned. And so Wade did with some flourish and a salute.

Five minutes later, they were finally getting into a rhythm with Wade deflecting a few of his more aggressive toys towards Spider-Man who was making quick work webbing everything safely to any surface he could find.

“This is so stupid!” Wade heard him griping as he dodge rolled out of the way of a rather large red dildo that was slapping around the floor.

“In my defense,” Wade began as he fumbled with some nasty nippy nipple clamps that were doing their best to imitate baby bear traps. One snapped on his finger rather forcibly and he let out a high-pitched yowl. “This is _not_ what I thought she meant when she swore at me.”

“That’s absolutely a lie, and you know it,” Spidey’s words were followed by more thwips as another toy got tacked to the wall. More loud banging noises commenced a second later.

“Okay, fine, have it your way Honest Abe,” Wade grunted as he finally managed to toss the snapping clamps over his shoulder only to be confronted with his latest purchase, a rather large egg shaped anal vibe that was currently being more ticklish than sexy. How was it even vibrating on its own though? His AA batteries should still be in the damn TV remote! “I might have let the thought cross my mind once… a couple times before! But this is a lot less fun than previously fantasized so now I’m all: [no sir, I don’t like it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cDGlN6mluGA).”

What happened next nearly broke Wade’s heart. There was a very loud tearing sound of some squishy material, and he could hear Spider-Man leaping onto a wall behind him.

“What did you-” Wade instantly regretting taking a second to turn and look. “Augh, no! You destroyed The Destroyer!” Giant dildos like that only came out to play every once in a while, but, geezus, they were not cheap and Spidey had absolutely shredded it.

“I don’t even want to imagine why you call it that…” Spider-Man stated as he managed to web both the clamps and any wiggling remnants of The Destroyer to the floor.

“Oh, that’s easy!” Wade started, finally catching the egg vibe’s remote connect cord under his boot. “It’s called that ‘cuz it’s gonna destroy dat as-” and then Wade was interrupted by a fluffy looking unicorn plush that hit him directly in the face.

“Dammit Randy, not you too!”

A few minutes more and the deed was done. Every single squiggly sex toy was either in complete disrepair or securly fastened to the wall courtesy Spider-Man’s white sticky web fuild. Both men were wheezing like they’d just survived a harrowing experience… a sexy and kinky harrowing experience, Wade’s mind supplied.

“[Well, slap me around and call me Susan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJYInp-W_ww). I did not think this was my jam, but dare I say that I might have just developed another kink!”

Spidey’s mask did that weird rumple thing that meant he was scowling again.

“Don’t.”

“Aww, c’mon Spides. You’re such a prude and that should be impossible now that you’ve survived being assaulted by my super risqué collection of pleasure inducing goodies.”

That look was still there, but Wade continued anyway. “So, whaddya say you? Wanna stick around for dinner and maybe shoot some more _web_ with me?”

Spider-Man brought his hands up and sprayed some other kind of liquid out his web shooters directly onto a wall full of toys opposite him. The chemical instantly started eating away at the web fluid on the sex toys, and they began doubling their efforts to escape as if somehow knowing that freedom was only mere seconds away.

“I warned you, Susan.”

If Spidey heard any of Wade’s screams/moans when all of the trapping fluid had finally dissolved, he didn’t bother to turn back around as he saw himself out the sliding door on Wade’s verandah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mokuyoubi for beta reading... again. They're the best!


End file.
